


The Best Way to Break Tradition

by Crescent_Quill (The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire)



Series: Henni's Hamcember (2020) [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, M/M, Morning After, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Queen_of_France_and_Her_Empire/pseuds/Crescent_Quill
Summary: Have a Happy Holidays and a hopeful New Year, everyone! Enjoy ^-^
Relationships: Thomas Jefferson/Hercules Mulligan
Series: Henni's Hamcember (2020) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046176
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The Best Way to Break Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Have a Happy Holidays and a hopeful New Year, everyone! Enjoy ^-^

“Well, we’re here… When does your flight depart?”

“In just about an hour. I should probably go, get through security before I end up late.”

“Yeah, I guess you should…”

Every year Thomas would drive James down to the airport to catch his flight down south. Every year Thomas would try to convince his best friend to stay for the holidays, and every year James would leave to be with his family. Every year they had this conversation, and every year it ended the same way.

It was like a strange, sad Christmas tradition.

“But you still have a little bit of time, right? Do you wanna grab a farewell coffee?”

“Thomas, don’t do this,” James sighed with a shake of his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “My parents have invited me over for Christmas, everyone will be there. You know that family is complicated, I can’t just ditch them last minute.”

“And you know this isn’t easy for me,” Thomas refutes with a huff and a sharp glare that was met with crossed arms from James. “At least you’re wanted by them…”

James could only sigh again, his expression softening as he placed a hand on his friend’s arm. “They’ve always said they’d be more than happy to see you too. You don’t need to spend Christmas up here alone.”

“Family is complicated,” Thomas echoes, shaking his head as if it would physically rid him of the thought of his own family before beginning to get out of the car.

They went quiet again as James followed suit, waiting as Thomas retrieved his rolling suitcase and book bag from the trunk.

“Text me when you land?”

“Of course,” James affirmed with a nod as he took his bags. “I’ll be back just after New Years'.”

“Yeah, just like last year,” Thomas murmured with an awkward shift as he rubbed his arm. “Have a safe flight and a Merry Christmas and all that…”

James simply nodded in response as the two friends shared a final, awkward, and unsure parting glance. Thomas watched as James turned and began to walk away, not moving until the airport’s automatic doors had slid closed behind his friend.

He wasn’t sure why he always waited until James was out of sight. Perhaps he hoped that one of these years James would change his mind at the last minute, or maybe his flight would be cancelled and he’d have to stay another day.

Whatever Thomas wished for, it never came true. Just like the year before, he was always left alone as he slowly drove away.

* * *

A few days had passed since James had left for Virginia. Thomas never responded to any of the texts he sent, just staring at the well-wishes from down south and the photos of the Madison family’s celebrations.

With Christmas just around the corner, Thomas did his best to hide away from the holiday cheer. It was hard to be festive when you’d be spending the season alone.

“Junk, coupons, bill, junk…” He listed off his mail with a frown, flipping through the envelopes left at his door and tossing them onto his kitchen table. “… And this.”

Thomas paused as he turned the blue envelope over in his hands. He could recognize the handwriting on the back any day. It was an invitation from Lafayette to attend his annual Christmas party.

With a sigh, he moved to toss the letter in the trash. Another strange, sad Christmas tradition.

Even if Thomas knew, or at least assumed, what the invitation contained he decided to humour his foreign friend just this once. After all, what harm could some textbook holiday greetings and Christmas wishes do?

He slipped his finger under the edge of the envelope and ripped the blue paper open, tossing it in the trash. As he read, he wandered into the living room and found himself pacing in front of the fireplace.

_Mon beaux ami,_

_I know that you will most likely never read this like all the other years…  
Still, should you ever change your mind I am hosting a party for family and  
friends on Christmas Eve. There will be a buffet dinner, open bar, and as  
always, people who will be very happy to see you. All I ask is that you give it  
a chance. Perhaps it’ll be easier to enjoy the holidays with a companion, non?_

_Either way, I hope to see you at my house at seven o’clock sharp. Don’t be late!_

_Your friend, Gilbert_

Thomas stopped as he read over the last few lines, the paper crumpling around his fingers as his grip tightened. He’d never even considered that Lafayette took the time to personalize his invitation, nor that he would notice his absence when there were so many other people attending the party.

With a deep sigh, he rooted a hand in his curls, nodding slowly as he closed his eyes.

“Just this once… Just one little break in tradition.” He murmured to himself as he folded up the invitation and grabbed his keys.

Thomas had some Christmas shopping to do and there was only one place that’d be reliably open this late into the holiday season: the liquor store.

He knew he’d need to get something from the top shelf. It was the least he could do after all the years he’d missed. Lafayette liked sweet more than savoury, though he probably had enough wine from his home country to last a lifetime. Thomas figured a nice bourbon would do, or maybe something foreign and fancy-sounding like blue absinthe.

Thomas ended up buying both and picked up a box of Merci chocolates on his way home, just to be safe.

With a nice bag and a couple of bows, it would’ve looked like he planned this from the beginning. At least, that’s what Thomas hoped. He wasn’t sure if dessert and booze was the best way to make up for several missed Christmases, but it was the best shot he had.

* * *

Standing in front of Lafayette’s door with his last-minute present in one hand and the other raised to knock, Thomas still hesitated.

Luck would have it that the weather combined with a miscalculation of his GPS made him more than an hour late. Lafayette must have already assumed he wasn’t going to show up, meaning that Thomas couldn’t be sure how the Frenchman would react to him showing up. It was tempting just to turn around, forget he ever changed his mind and enjoy the booze and chocolates in the comfort of his own, lonely home.

“You’re a coward, Jefferson,” Thomas muttered as he closed his eyes, knocking on the door before he could second guess himself again.

While he waited for someone to answer he listened to the sounds of muffled conversation accompanied by occasional laughter. Whoever was inside seemed to be having a good enough time without him, and as the minutes passed with no answer he began to regret ever changing his mind about the holidays.

Just as Thomas began to turn away there was a click behind the door before it swung open. Standing there with surprise in his eyes was none other than Lafayette.

“Hi… Sorry I’m late--”

“Thomas!” The Frenchman cheered, pulling his friend into a hug that ended before it ever really began. “Do not apologize, I am just happy to see you. How long have you been standing here? Come inside, it is too cold to keep you waiting any longer.”

Thomas tried not to think too much about the hug, instead, he just smiled and let himself be happy about not having to stand out in the snow anymore. “I, uh, I got you something. It’s not much but it’s… something.”

Lafayette took the shin red bag the southerner was holding and tilted his head while he inspected its contents. “You just being here is more than enough. Let me take your coat, and please, make yourself at home.”

Thomas smiled a bit more as he shrugged off his coat, watching Lafayette walk off before he turned his gaze to the other guests.

He knew Lafayette had a big family and even larger social circles, but Thomas only recognize about a quarter of the people present. If he already felt like a third wheel, now he was no better than a stranger.

With a deep breath, Thomas slipped off his boots and tried to casually pass by the various congregations and conversations dotted around the room. He saw a drunken Alexander flirting relentlessly with a relatively sober Aaron Burr by the Christmas tree. He saw the Schuyler sisters chatting with Maria and a blonde that he assumed to be Adrienne, one of Lafayette’s childhood friends. He saw John Laurens ducking under Lafayette’s arm with a pair of champagne glasses while the Frenchman introduced him to a series of aunts, uncles, and cousins. It seemed that everyone had a friend, family member, or lover to spend their time with.

Everyone except Thomas.

With that spirit-lifting conclusion Thomas decided it best he made his way to the food and booze. He picked at some of the fondue options first, dipping a few strawberries and pineapple slices under the free-flowing chocolate before the sugar became too much. He went searching for something more savoury, only to find that either the other guests had eaten them all, or there were no savoury options to begin with.

“I knew Gil had a sweet tooth, but this is just excessive,” he muttered with a shake of his head as he turned his attention to the booze.

As he was looking through the alcoholic options, he found the bourbon and blue absinthe he’d brought with him to the party. He gave a dry laugh at the sight, shaking his head as he set down the blueberry wine he was considering and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He didn’t blame Lafayette for the decision he made, he couldn’t, and at least this way he wouldn’t feel guilty for drinking all of his friend’s booze.

It was stronger than wine anyways, and Thomas needed stronger.

He finished the first glass quickly and quietly, wanting to be drunk before he let himself try and enjoy the amber liquid. As he sipped at his second glass, he scanned the room again with a small frown. Even in a room full of happy faces and cheery conversation he was alone for the holidays.

At least he had good taste in bourbon.

As Thomas was wallowing in self-pity and jealousy a giant of a man began to approach. He browsed through his options with pursed lips, whistling when he noticed the bright bottle of blue absinthe.

The sound startled Thomas, his bourbon sloshing in his glass as he suddenly stood up straight and took in the stranger’s appearance.

Thomas had heard a lot of people described as being built like a tank but by god did this man live up to it. He was about a foot taller than Thomas, who stood at a clean 6’3” in his own right, with broad shoulders and muscular arms that could barely be contained by the classic ugly Christmas sweater he was wearing.

He realized he was staring when he made eye contact with the stranger, though the moment ended when he quickly tried to distract himself with his drink.

“Just when I thought this party could use a pick me up you show your stunning little face,” The stranger spoke as he grabbed himself a shot glass and uncapped the bottle of blue absinthe. Seeing Thomas’ confusion out of the corner of his eye he flashed the man a grin. “I was talking to the booze, not you. Unless you’d like me to call you stunning too.”

“Are you drunk?” Thomas blurts, a little put-off by how charismatically carefree the stranger was being.

“A little, but not as drunk as I will be,” He replied with a shrug before tossing back the shot and swallowing it without a quiver. “The name’s Hercules, by the way.”

“Thomas Jefferson.” The southerner introduced as he watched Hercules pour himself more of the blue absinthe to sip on. “Y’know, that stuff’s, like, eighty percent alcohol, right? It might be better to stick with the shot glasses.”

“Eh, I’m Irish, and this is a taste of home. I’ll be fine. Probably,” Hercules replied, flashing Thomas another one of his stunning grins. “Don’t know how Laf got his hands on it, though, haven’t seen any kind of absinthe since I moved over here.”

“I brought it, actually,” Thomas admitted with a small clear of his throat and a little smile, lowering his glass to meet Hercules’ gaze. “The liquor stores uptown keep some stock of fancy foreign-sounding things. Luck would have it I decided on that one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” The Irishman replied, taking a sip of his drink before he moved to lean against the wall with Thomas.

They were quiet for a few minutes, both sipping at their respective drinks as they watched the party unfold in front of them. Alexander and Aaron had started slow dancing, much to the former’s chagrin. John was sitting on Lafayette’s lap teasing him by telling stories to a handful of the Frenchman’s siblings and their significant others. Adrienne and Maria had found a quiet corner to talk in while Eliza sat back as Peggy and Angelica flirted with Lafayette’s cousins.

“They seem to be having fun,” Hercules commented after a moment, bringing Thomas’ focus back to him.

“Yeah, seems they are…” The southerner replied with a small sigh, watching his bourbon as he twirled his glass before taking another sip. “You could join them, have fun too.”

“And miss out on the show? No thanks,” Hercules replied with a rumbling laugh, tilting his head back as he sighed before slowly shaking his head. “Really, though, they all got their own thing going on. I’d just get in the way.”

“Aren’t they your friends?” Thomas asked, lowering his glass again as he tried to decipher the far-away look in the Irishman’s eyes.

“Well, sure. I’m their rock, the ‘dad friend,’ the one they go to when they need advice, but…” Hercules trailed off for a moment, hesitating to continue before he took a drink of the blue absinthe. “That’s kinda it.”

From the way Thomas’ brow had furrowed in confusion Hercules could tell that he didn’t quite understand. With a sigh, he began to motion between his friends that made up the various couples in the room.

“Alex couldn’t tell if he was obsessed with Aaron because of love or hate before I stepped in. I told John that Gil already adored him when he was freaking out ‘cause he thought his feelings were one-sided. The Schuyler’s- Well, they don’t really need my help, but they still like to hear my advice. And just tonight I helped Maria work up the courage to introduce herself to Adr- Adrie- Blondie over there. My job is done.”

“You forgot to save someone for yourself, is that it?” Thomas concluded with a frown, watching as Hercules began to nod.

“Basically, yeah. It’s kinda sad, isn’t it?” The Irishman commented with a dry laugh before he took a swig of his drink, nearly finishing it in one gulp. “I get all these couples together and at the end of the day I’m still alone.”

“I get the feeling, sort of,” Thomas admitted as he cleared his throat, regretting trying to follow suit and finish his bourbon in one go. “Mainly the alone part… this is my first time at one of these parties, actually. Usually, I just spend the holidays holed up at home.”

“Guess this year we get to be alone together,” Hercules hummed, grinning as he knocked their glasses together before tossing back the rest of his booze. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Yeah…” Thomas murmured, only taking a small sip of his bourbon as he began to space out.

Instead of calming his nerves, the alcohol only made his anxieties worse. The southerner couldn’t reason why he’d just shared some of his biggest fears with a man he just met or why Hercules had told him most of his. It had to be sympathy, or empathy, or pity or something else like it. He was drunk, not a thesaurus! Whatever it was, Thomas had convinced himself that it would only end in him getting hurt.

“Excuse me,” Thomas spoke as he abruptly set his glass down, already beginning to walk away from Hercules before he continued. “I should- I gotta go.”

“Wait, what? Why? Was it something I said?” Hercules began to ask, but his questions fell on deaf ears.

Thomas was already lost in an ocean of his anxieties as he rushed to the front door, bumping into a few people on the way as he stumbled past congregations and couples.

He was almost at the front door when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder and met with a pair of worried eyes.

“Thomas, is everything alright? You’ve gotten yourself in such a hurry…” the Frenchman commented with a sigh, reaching to cup Thomas’ cheek and focus his gaze before his hand was pushed away.

“Nothing I just- figured I should be getting home,” Thomas replied, hoping his words weren’t too slurred as he forced a smile. “The party was good- great. I’ll drop by again next year.”

“Mon beaux, wait. Please,” Lafayette begged, grabbing onto Thomas’ wrist before he could run any father. “I’m not going to let one of my friends try to drive home drunk in this kind of weather, it’s a death wish. Stay for the night, I insist. You can go home after breakfast.”

Before Thomas could come up with something in his defence Hercules was standing behind them, awkwardly opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find something to say. “Are you… Okay?”

“Everything is fine, mon nounours,” Lafayette filled in with a little smile, though there was a glint of something coy in his eyes. “I was just telling Thomas that he should rest before he ends up too hungover. Could you do me a favour and set him up in one of the guest bedrooms? The one right next to the master should be just fine.”

“Yeah, sure, I gotcha,” The Irishman replied with a clear of his throat and a nod, looking to Thomas with an apologetic smile before placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him away from the party.

As the sound of chatter and laughter slowly faded, Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to curse Lafayette or thank him. He was drunk and about to be alone with a very handsome man he somehow managed to personally connect with.

Things were about to go very, very wrong or very, very right.

* * *

Both Hercules and Thomas were quiet, awkward as they found their way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Neither were entirely sober and Lafayette’s house, which he inherited from some rich great uncle, was large enough to make it a task for them to find the guest bedroom the Frenchman had directed them to.

“I think this one’s it,” Hercules muttered as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess that means you’re all set for the night…”

“Yeah, guess I am,” Thomas murmured, voice breathy and barely above a whisper as he rubbed his arm.

He’d gotten scared earlier because Hercules had gotten close. Now that they had been pushed back together, the thought of coming so close to… something only to end up alone on Christmas Eve again was even more terrifying.

They both opened their mouth to speak at the same time, then they shut themselves up to let the other speak first. It made them laugh, the sound was nervous and awkward yet still genuine.

Thomas made a motion for Hercules to speak first, and the Irishman obliged.

“Listen, I don’t really know what happened downstair but I know I had to have done something, so,” He started, clearing his throat a little to give him time to figure out his next words. “I guess I’m trynna say sorry? You’re a good guy- a great guy and I made a shitty first impression and I really wish I had a do-over or something right now to make it up to you.”

Hercules was rambling, whether from the alcohol or because he was genuinely nervous Thomas couldn’t tell. Still, it made him smile as he placed a hand on the Irishman’s arm to calm him down. “You’re fine, you didn’t do anything I just… freaked. No real reason for it.”

It was a lie. A little white lie, but a lie nonetheless. If Hercules pried, he could probably blame it on too much booze. Thankfully the Irishman just sighed in relief before flashing Thomas one of those carefree, charismatic grins of his.

“Guess that settles it, then.”

Their resolution was mutual, but neither made a move to leave.

Thomas kept his hand on Hercules’ arm, trying to subtly feel the muscles beneath his sleeve as the Irishman grinned and took a step closer. Nothing was ever really subtle when you’re drunk, after all.

“Is this where we’re supposed to say goodnight? Go about our lives?” Thomas asked as he traced the colourful pattern of Hercules’ sweater, coaxing him into stepping closer.

“Supposed to and have to are two very different things,” Hercules replied with a low laugh, placing a hand on the southerner’s hip. “I mean, we’re adults, we can make our own decisions.”

“That’s true, so what do you want to do?” Thomas hummed, looking up to meet Hercules’ gaze, swallowing thickly as he watches his words ignite something in the Irishman’s eyes.

There was a moment of silence as Thomas licked his lips, tightening glancing down over Hercules’ broad chest as he pulled at his sleeve. The action made Hercules laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

In a moment Thomas was gasping as he was pushed back against the door and Hercules caught his lips in a hungry kiss. He gave into it. He gave more than he thought he could into a single kiss as he clung onto Hercules’ shoulders and lifted a leg to wrap around his waist. Hercules was more than happy to help, squeezing his ass as his hands hooked under the southerner’s thighs and lifted him up off the ground.

Before it would’ve scared Thomas how easily he preened under every touch and practically purred as Hercules tugged at his lower lip with his teeth. He was vulnerable, at the mercy of Hercules’ every little whim, and he was loving it.

Every moment they spent pressed together, tongues tangled as they tugged at each other’s clothes were just as intoxicating as the absinthe on the Irishman’s lips.

Thomas was left panting as Hercules broke the kiss to run his teeth over his ear and fumbled with the doorknob as the southerner tugged at his sweater. He gave his ass another squeeze as a tease before he dropped him on the bed.

Thomas couldn’t help but whine as he lost the contact he so desperately needed, only end up swallowing thickly as Hercules made quick work of his sweater.

“Like what you see?” The Irishman laughed as he flexed his arms above his head.

Thomas would be lying if he said anything other than a resounding yes. “ _Fuck._ You could bench press me without even breaking a sweat!”

His comment made Hercules laugh again. It started as a low rumble in his chest before it turned into a hearty bellow that vibrated within Thomas’ core. “Y’know, of all the things I’ve heard, that’s a first.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Thomas asked, shifting onto his knees as the mattress bent under Hercules’ weight.

“Nah, it’s a good thing,” The Irishman reassured as he pulled Thomas into his lap and had him straddle his hips. “Means that you’re gonna make this fun.”

His comment made Thomas laugh this time, tucking his face into the crook of Hercules’ neck. The Irishman made an almost purr-like hum in response as he wrapped his arms tight around his waist and kept Thomas close even as he began to paint bitemarks and hickeys along his jaw and down from his pulse point. All the attention was wonderful, and by god did Thomas want more, but no matter how tempting it was to tilt his head back and let Hercules have at it he couldn’t bring himself to move.

A sob echoed in the room over the sound of lips and teeth against skin. Thomas wanted to ignore it, pressing closer to the Irishman to try and coax him into continuing.

He didn’t realize that the sob came from him until Hercules pulled back with worried-looking eyes.

“You doing alright?” He asked quietly as he began, hesitantly loosening his hold.

“Yeah, I’m just fine,” Thomas replied, forcing a smile as he pretended he didn’t have to swallow back another sob to keep his words from wavering. “We’re good, we’re great. Pretty as a peach.”

The southerner wasn’t entirely making sense and he knew it, but he needed Hercules to stay more than he needed to find the right words.

“Look, you don’t gotta lie just ‘cause you feel bad for leading me on,” The Irishman tried to explain, letting Thomas go and beginning to slide off the bed to give him the space he thought he needed. “I’ll go, let you get some sleep, forget this ever-“

“No!” Thomas cried, voice a little too loud as he scrambled to grab into something of Hercules’ to make him stay.

He ended up latching onto his wrist and, though his grip was tight, he knew he couldn’t stop the mountain of a man from leaving if he really wanted to. At the very least, it gave Thomas a chance to look Hercules in the eyes one more time as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

Hercules paused, watching Thomas’ expression for a moment before he sat down on the bed again. He reached out to wipe away a few of Thomas’ tears with his thumb, cupping his cheek in the process. He couldn’t expect the southerner’s reaction.

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, his tears now falling from his lashes as he leaned into Hercules’ touch as much as he could. He held Hercules’ hand to his cheek, lacing their fingers together as he pressed little kisses to his palm and inner-wrist.

“Just- stay. Please… I don’t care what else we do, just stay.”

Hercules hummed lowly in response, nodding as he shifted closer to Thomas and took hold of his waist again. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over a thing, I’m right here.”

Thomas gave a small nod in response, sniffling quietly as he tried to wipe away his tears staining his cheeks with his free hand. “I’m sorry… I killed the mood, didn’t I?”

Hercules shook his head, slowly laying Thomas back onto the mattress as he slipped his hands under the hem of his shirt. “I said not to worry, didn’t I? You’re just fine and still pretty when you cry too.”

His comment made Thomas laugh, the sound a little dry and mixed with a hitch in his breath, but a laugh nonetheless. Hercules took it as a sign he was good to go, pulling Thomas into another kiss as he began to unbutton his silk shirt.

He was being gentle this time, slower and sensual yet soft. For a moment, Thomas even felt cared for. It was a funny feeling, a foreign feeling, but Thomas allowed himself to relish in it as Hercules pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor.

Now with his chest exposed Hercules occupied his mouth with painting matching marks onto Thomas’ collarbone as his fingers hooked around the waistband of both his dress pants and his boxer-briefs. Thomas couldn’t help but whine, unsure whether he liked it more when Hercules’ lips were busy with his own or when they were sucking beautiful bruises into the skin just below his throat.

Either way, he wasn’t exactly pleased when Hercules suddenly stopped and realization flash across his expression.

“I was thinking we were gonna have to do this the old fashioned way, but…” he trailed off as he reached for the nightstand, feeling around in the drawers before his fingers wrapped around a small bottle of lube. “Horny bastards.”

Thomas couldn’t help but pout as Hercules began to laugh. As much as he loved the sound, he loved the attention and affection more.

“I might not be a bastard but I am horny, and I’m right here,” he muttered, still pouting as he pawed at Hercules’ chest and kissed at the corner of his jaw. “So, can we fuck now? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Hercules was still laughing, now because of Thomas’ little plea instead of whatever he found in the nightstand. “Keep that pout up and I might make you beg for real.”

“I bet you’d like that,” Thomas murmured, pressing his forehead into Hercules’ chest as he openly trailed his open palms up his arms and down his back. “What’s so interesting anyways?”

“Just something that’ll let us get to the real fun,” Hercules replied, teasing his lips down Thomas’ torso and tugging at his waistband with his teeth. “Wanna do me a favour and help me get these off?”

Thomas was almost too eager as he quickly kicked off his dress pants before he reached for Hercules’ fly, only to stop as Hercules ran his teeth along the edge of his Adonis belt. It sent a shiver up Thomas’ spine as he was made very aware of just how hard he was. He whined, reaching for something of Hercules’ to hold to distract him from the heat rising to his cheeks.

“I’m right here baby,” Hercules murmured, voice surprisingly soft for his size as he laced his and Thomas’ fingers together. “But if you want my dick you need to let me prep ya first… I’d hate to hurt you, after all.”

Though Thomas pouted in response with another whine he reluctantly let go of Hercules’ hand and laid back. He shifted a bit as Hercules spread his legs apart, swallowing thickly as he heard Hercules pop the cap off the bottle of lube.

He was needy and nervous and on fire and shivering all at the same time. He trusted Hercules, he really did, but being left open and vulnerable he felt like a virgin.

Thomas was certainly acting like it, after all.

He went tense as Hercules pushed the first finger in, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips as he clenched around him. They’d barely begun and already Thomas’ was finding it hard to breathe.

“Relax, you’re fine. This won’t hurt,” Hercules murmured, kissing down Thomas’ calf from his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves. “It just won’t feel as good if you don’t.”

Thomas huffed quietly in response, whining quietly again. Still, he managed to force the tension out of his muscles as Hercules began to work him open.

Hercules’ fingers were this and his pace was steady as he diligently worked Thomas open. He was right, it felt much better when Hercules wasn’t fighting against artificial tension.

Even with only one finger, Thomas was panting as he tried to stay still for Hercules. With the second he was moaning, squirming as Hercules began to push deeper and press against his prostate. With the third he was gasping, both in surprise and pleasure from the stretch. Hercules’ fingers were thick to begin with, he couldn’t begin to imagine how thick his cock must be.

Luckily he wouldn’t have to try and imagine for long.

“See? that wasn’t so hard,” Hercules muttered as he pulled his fingers out with a wet _pop_ , watching with a grin as Thomas began to whine from the loss of contact. “Your dick, on the other hand…”

He trailed off as he gave Thomas’ length an almost playful stroke, earning a sweet and needy whine as he reached for Hercules again. “Please… I want you, need you. Just-“

“Shh, I’m right here,” Hercules murmured as he pulled Thomas into a slow kiss, giving him the attention he needed while Hercules stripped himself of the last of his clothes.

The sight of Thomas beneath him and his all-too beautiful moans were enough to get him hard. All it took was a pair of quick strokes to spread lube over his cock before he was lining up with Thomas’ entrance.

“Wait,” Thomas murmured as he placed a hand on Hercules’ shoulder before he could go any farther. Nervousness beat neediness. “Hold me?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Hercules murmured with a small laugh as he took Thomas’ hand from his shoulder and laced their fingers together. “This better?”

Thomas gave a hum in response as he let out a small sigh, relaxing under Hercules’ weight as he bit his lip in anticipation for what was next.

Hercules flashed Thomas one of those charismatic, carefree grins that made his knees go weak as Hercules squeeze his hand and began to push in.

Thomas didn’t have a chance to get a good look at Hercules’ cock earlier. He didn’t think it’d matter. Now, Hercules had barely pushed two inches into him and he was already left gasping at the burning of pain and pleasure that came with the stretch.

He wanted more.

“Hercules, please- Don’t tease me now…” he whined, beginning to pout again only for Hercules to catch his lips in a kiss.

Thomas was eager to kiss back as Hercules gave his hand a sharp squeeze, making him gasp. In a moment their tongues were tied together as Hercules rocked his hips to ease Thomas into the stretch as he pushed deeper.

He didn’t stop until he was buried deep in Thomas’ ass, pressing against all the right places as Hercules groaned lowly at the tightness.

“You feel good, baby… Makes me wish I met you sooner.” Hercules muttered through the kiss before nipping at Thomas’ lower lip.

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, panting quietly as he tried to find his words. A moan lingered in the back of his throat as he clenched and unclenched around Hercules’ cock. He was starting to adjust to the burning stretch as his muscled learned to accommodate Hercules’ sheer size. Still, each rock of his hips helped reignite the spark and draw another moan from Thomas’ lips.

It was game over when Hercules began the real fun.

The first thrust made Thomas moan into the kiss. Hercules didn’t even need to try to find his prostate when his cock was so thick it pressed against everything at once. The pace he set was steady and strong, making Thomas gasp each time Hercules bottomed out just to bring back the burn of stretched-out pleasure he was desperate for.

As a hot tightness began to pull at his gut Thomas could only gasp. He squeezed Hercules’ hand as he tried to follow his movements, hips beginning to buck under the pressure and pleasure that built up with the push and pull of Hercules’ cock.

“Ha- Herc! Hercules, please~” He practically purred as a shivering moan ripped through his throat. Part of him was desperate for the pressure to give way to something even better while another part of him wanted the burn to last forever.

Hercules was getting sloppy, each thrust now accompanied with a grunt and a creak of the mattress as he pinned Thomas’ hand down next to his hand. “What’s that now? You want something?”

Thomas could only nod in response as his free hand shot up to wrap around Hercules’ neck, pulling him down into another kiss. His movements were feverish even as he gave up control and Hercules’ strong arm lifted his hips up off the bed.

“Please, I wanna- I gotta-!” Thomas couldn’t get his words out, he didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore.

All he could think about was the perfect burn of Hercules’ cock and the building heat that made him want to burst.

Hercules seemed to contemplate Thomas’ words for a moment even as his own endurance began to wear thin. He was panting, grunting, and even a few moans of his own slipped through with the low sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t hold yourself back, baby.”

Thomas didn’t need to hear anymore. The pressure and heat unravelled like a spring wound up too tight, sending a shock of sharp pleasure through Thomas’ system as he tightened around Hercules’ cock and made a sticky, hot mess of his stomach.

It didn’t take much more before Hercules came tumbling over the edge after him, hips suddenly stilling with a sharp thrust as he came with a groan.

They laid there as a tangled, sweaty mess as they tried to catch their breath between kisses. Eventually, Hercules pulled out and fell next to Thomas on the mattress, pulling him into his chest despite the mess they’d made of each other. Thomas preened as Hercules pulled him in for one last kiss. Even after everything, there was still a faint taste of absinthe on his lips.

Thomas was still clinging onto Hercules as they separated once more. He wanted him close, he wanted to keep those strong arms around him for as long as he lived. He hadn’t felt this hopeful about someone in a long time and as he and Hercules slipped into sleep, it was all he could think about.

Hope as sweet as this would make for a good Christmas tradition.

* * *

Lafayette hummed quietly to himself, drumming a little rhythm against his granite countertops as his Nespresso machine finished his perfectly brewed morning coffee. It was Christmas morning and while most of his guests had gone home after the snowstorm blew over a few were resting in his various guest rooms.

As he took his festive mug from the machine and began to search his cupboards for the cinnamon sugar, he heard the sound of running water from somewhere upstairs. The Frenchman smiled to himself at the sound, knowing breakfast would be soon.

As he passed by his oven, he made sure to preheat the grill. Christmas morning crepes were one of his specialties, after all. Some of his guests stayed the night just to have a taste of the delectable breakfast treats the next morning.

While he waited Lafayette took a seat at the breakfast bar, taking a slow slip of his French vanilla latte and smiling the added hint of cinnamon. Perfect as always.

He heard two sets of footsteps start to come down the stairs together, a smirk pulling at the Frenchman’s lips at the sound. He stood, moving around to the other side of the counter and leaving his latte behind. Lafayette pretended not to have noticed the approaching pair as he busied himself with preparing the batter.

When he heard the stools shift as two more people took a seat at the breakfast bar he turned around with a sweet smile. “Bon matin, mes amis! Did you sleep well?”

Hercules gave a small grunt as Thomas mumbled some unintelligible response. They both looked tired despite having a full night's sleep, obviously hungover.

Thomas seemed to be a little more careful with himself as he sat down, shaking some water droplets from his curls. Hercules, well, he was shirtless and not-so-subtly smirking at how Thomas crossed one leg over the other as he tried to find a way to sit comfortably.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lafayette replied, smiling more at the sight and humming under his breath to pretend he was simply happy because it was Christmas. “I am glad you two made friends. That is what you did, non?”

“You could call it that, yeah,” Hercules muttered with a low laugh as he stretched his arms above his head. Considering he was shirtless and still damp from the shower, it was quite the sight.

Thomas was trying not to stare, lowering his head into his hands as he rubbed his eyes. “Uhm… Breakfast, coffee! Are we gonna be able to have either of those?”

“Very soon, mon beaux,” Lafayette replied, a coy twinkle appearing in his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. “But first, I think you two have some secrets to spill~”


End file.
